A/N: Shit happens and Dan cries

Summary: Dan has been thrown into a completely new environment as he joins a popular boarding school, Blackwood Academy, as a new student. But what will happen when he accidentally befriends Phil, a ringleader of the meanest group of students in the school?

DISCLAIMER: Obviously (and unfortunately) everything I have written is entirely fictional. I am not claiming Phan is real.

♡ LINKS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS ♡

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The slam of the bathroom door in my dorm was enough to wake me up, jolting me out of my deep sleep and suddenly filling me with realization that I couldn’t hide forever. And Alex was awake.

I burrowed further into my duvet, although I poked my head out from underneath, one of my eyes peeping out of the crack between the underneath of the duvet and the mattress, staring at the door and listening vacantly to the hum of the electric toothbrush coming from the other side of the door. Maybe if I could get dressed quickly enough, I could manage to run out before he’d had a chance to catch me? Although with my immense skills and luck, I’d probably end up tripping over my feet, half-dressed as soon as he came out of the bathroom.
After trying to roll over on my side, I was suddenly met with a jolt of hot pain shooting up my body, which served as a brutal reminder of last night’s incidents. At this rate, I’d barely be able to get up at all, let alone get dressed and out the door by the time he’d finished.

I decided to play invisible. If I burrowed right under and kept as motionless as possible (which, judging by the state I was in, wasn’t hard) maybe he just might not notice me. He was late already, as usual, so I doubted the fact that he’d be in too much of a state to engage in too much conversation with me, if any.

I nibbled my sore lip; despite the stinging pain it caused from the damage done last night, as I waited. I knew Alex wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality, but I knew he had History class first period, and being late wasn’t exactly too highly recommended in Mr. Harrison’s classroom. I never thought teeth-brushing could be such a laboriously long task for him.

My eyelids began gradually drooping as I lay there, already completely ridden with fatigue, and waited. The soft comfort of my bed also didn’t help with the whole ‘trying to stay awake’ thing, especially as I was in so much pain already and wanted nothing more than to simply drop asleep there and then. Before I could wait, fall asleep, or sigh any longer, the door finally opened, sending me rapidly retracting back under the duvet and playing the ‘invisibility’ act.

Alex shut the door behind him, and the silence hanging heavily in the room was unbearable. I could feel his eyes burning into my bed, and at the lump underneath the duvet where I was huddled up. I waited. We both waited. I didn’t really know exactly what I was expecting, in all honesty. Alex wasn’t Charlie. It wasn’t as if he was going to whip out a katana to slay me with. But whatever the outcome of us actually talking would be, I figured silence and praying for him to leave me alone would be the safest option out of here. I already knew I was probably going to end up skipping most classes and hiding between the tall bookshelves in the library, away from as many people as I could manage, so the worry of being verbally abused by the majority of my year group was taken care of. And I’d decided to avoid the dining hall at all costs, and put my faith into the vending machines dotted around the school.

Alex stood still for a couple more seconds, before moving again. He edged round my bed and back over to his, and I began to hear the rustle of his clothes along with the distinctive rattle of the wardrobe as he dressed himself. I still stayed very, very still; beginning to wonder if he’d actually noticed me at all. I mean, I was probably pretty hard to miss, although I for one didn’t know exactly what I looked like right now, to him.
I fiddled with a loose thread of the bandage on my wrist, willing him out of the room so I could get up and dressed myself, as quickly as I could manage with the coping of however serious these injuries appeared.

You can’t keep this up forever. My mind reminded me, as I tried to the best of my ability to ignore it. I knew it was right, though. That was precisely why I was trying as hard as I was in order to ignore it.

After what felt like several lifetimes, the door to our dorm finally shut, leaving me alone in the room. I peeked out from under the duvet relief flooding through me at the sight of the empty dorm. I kicked off my sheets, being able to examine my bruises and badly-repaired wrist more carefully in the light of day. Ignoring the pain, which I was so used to from previous incidents anyway, I staggered over to the mirror, and almost burst out laughing when I caught sight of the state of my face. All over every cut, bruise, or other injury, there had been a plaster taped down, making my face look like some kind of mummified surgeon. I giggled confusedly to myself, although there wasn’t much humour in the laugh, as I gently peeled off every plaster, wincing at the pain. As I wasn’t exactly a girl, I didn’t have any of that foundation stuff to conceal the injuries; and even if I did, I’d probably end up looking like a microwaved Ken doll, so I decided to leave my face unattended. It was a better option than leaving these plasters on, regardless of how weak and stupid I looked while covered in marks that I knew were going to scar horribly.
I sighed at my reflection once every plaster had been removed- staring at the purple rings defining my slightly blackened eye, the way my unwashed, ragged hair stuck up in crazy waves of brown, and the way one of the bones in my wrist stuck out worryingly. It was my bad wrist, as well. The one that had probably survived one beat-up too many. I sighed at it, not even bothering to take the bandage off. It would be better on, anyway.

I swivelled around to start getting dressed, knowing I was already running late, when suddenly the door flew open, and Alex hurried in, his head down with concentration as if he’d come in just to pick something up. The very second his eyes flickered over to me from under his fringe, he froze, in shock. His eyes widened further as he examined my body, taking in every inch of my appearance in very much the same manner as I had been doing over in the mirror. I fiddled with my hands self-consciously, not entirely sure what I was supposed to be doing. What could I do? Run to his knees and start apologizing? Run out of the dorm and try to avoid him again?

“Dan?!” He stuttered.

I gulped wordlessly, keeping my eyes down to the crumpled duvet on the bed.

Alex walked over to me, still ridden with shock. “Dan, what the fuck happened to you?!”

I remained wordless, my eyes continuing to burn into my bed as if it was the most interesting and captivating thing I could possibly be paying attention to right now. The silence won me over, however, as I tore my eyes away from the duvet and back up into his eyes apologetically.

“It was Phil, wasn’t it?” His expression dropped with realization, his teeth gritting in anger. “Oh my god, I’ll fucking kill h-”

“It wasn’t Phil.” I broke my silence, my voice coming out in a hoarse croak as I tried to prevent him from going anywhere. The last thing I needed right now was another run-in with Charlie and Phil.

“Well, who was it, then?!” He pressed, the doubt in his voice making it clear that he believed there would be no-one other than Phil who would do this to me.

I forced my eyes back onto the duvet, remaining silent as I dithered helplessly over whether I should actually tell him or not.

“Dan!” Alex prompted urgently when I’d made no response. “Dan, look at me.” His voice softened suddenly, and I put the last of my dying trust into him to look up into his eyes. “You have to tell me who’s done this to you. I promise I’ll keep it quiet.” His brown eyes shone, pleading.

I sighed, although my trust was so ruined I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was another trap. But in the state I was currently in, part of me wanted to sit down on the bed with him. I’d only been up less than 5 minutes and already physical activity was beginning to take its toll on me. Maybe I’d skip the library today, altogether.

Alex sat down beside me, staring expectantly.

I nibbled my sore lip uncomfortably. “You’re-… you’re gonna be late for History.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like that’s my main priority right now.”

I gave him a half smile, although there was something else nagging my mind more than the issue of who beat me up. I was pretty certain Alex hated me and couldn’t stand the sight of me anymore. I knew I wasn’t exactly the picture of health and beauty right now, but the way in which he was staring at me with such concern and genuine care was unnerving.

“Promise me y-”

“I promise.” Alex insisted, cutting me off.

I swallowed my fears in a nervous gulp.

“Charlie.” I squeaked timidly, so quietly I was unsure whether or not he’d actually heard me.

“Charlie?!” Alex repeated, his eyebrows furrowed into an expression of confusion I couldn’t quite comprehend.

“Yeah…?” I responded, wondering why that was such an unbelievable occurrence to him. He knew how much of a rat Charlie was; we’d spent a whole evening talking about him and Phil (though at that point, of course, all my supposed hate towards Phil was pretend.)

“I can’t believe it…” He exclaimed in disbelief. “Why would Charlie… Charlie… do such a thing?! Oh my god, I feel sick.”

“Why?” I was matching up to his confusion at this point, but for a different reason. Why was he struggling to believe this? In all honesty, I’d find this pretty damn easy to believe, even if it wasn’t me who was the victim of Charlie’s violence.

It suddenly clicked.

“No, no no…” I closed my eyes, sighing. “Not Charlie. I meant Charlie, as in Phil’s Charlie. Not Charlie Charlie!”

Alex’s face filled up with realization, as he pieced everything together. “Oh. That figures.”

“Yep.” I raised my eyebrows, staring down at my wrist again.

Alex broke the silence with a sigh. The re-frozen ice between us had broken, now, which meant I was probably stuck with opening up to him for the rest of the morning as opposed to hiding in here while he sloped off to his History lesson.

“Look, Dan…”

“No, Alex.” I stopped him before he even started. “I’m-… well, I don’t really know how to say this. I don’t know if saying anything is actually going to help anything at all. But… you, and everyone else, have every right to hate me.” I shrugged. “I fucked up. Big tim- see, this is why I’m no good at this kind of crap. I just end up stating the obvious and dwelling on unfixable things, an-”

“Dan, stop burbling.” Alex grinned. “Look, save it. You know I don’t really bother with big apologies like that. But…” He shook his head. “I thought you hated Phil?”

I gulped. “I thought that, too.”

I fucking wished it was true, more like.

He put his head to one side, curiously. “But… how did you guys actually… y’know…”

I took a deep breath. I knew I was more than unprepared to tell the truth. My mind jerked into action as I began painting a mental picture of an alternate relationship Phil and I could’ve had, censoring out the mentioning of the talking for months in the hut, the walks in the forest, and the bracelet.

“I don’t really know. It was over before it really begun.” I shook my head myself as if I was trying to escape from some kind of dazy nightmare. Which was what it felt like, right now.

“Oh god, he didn’t-”

“No, no, he didn’t. It was nothing like that. I swear.” I tried to think of what mine and Phil’s situation would’ve been like, minus the actual, stupid feelings I had for him.

“Well, I don’t wanna hear all the details. It’s fine if you wanna keep that to… yourself. I understand.” Alex put his hand up, overwhelming me with sudden relief. “I just know what he’s like, Dan. He fucks people over.”

It was true. I’d often forgotten that Alex, along with nearly everyone else at this school had been here marginally longer than I had. They’d seen it all before, hadn’t they? Phil picking up yet another new, unsuspecting victim, pretending to fall in love with them, and then ditching them as soon as someone better came along. Or as soon as his proper boyfriend had found out. They’d seen Phil’s true colours, the ones that I was the last to be exposed to, until now; at the bitter end. It had taken me this long to figure him out.

I could’ve hit myself, but Charlie had obviously already done that for me. I should’ve known. I should’ve listened to Alex and Zoe all along. I should’ve listened to the dorm advisors, right at the start of the year. I should’ve stayed away from Phil Lester.

Alex peered at me tactfully.

“You’re gonna cry, aren’t you?” He asked softly, watching the tears well up in my eyes.

I nodded meekly, before completely losing every ounce of strength I had kept up for so painfully long, and collapsed into him, sobbing on his shoulder as if we were two schoolgirls in some American movie.

Alex seemed pretty surprised at my sudden reaction, although he relaxed against me, pulling me in for a hug.

“There, there…” He muttered soothingly, his experience on consoling heartbroken teenagers obviously not exactly wide.

“I’m sorry.” I sniffled embarrassedly, trying to pull myself together. I couldn’t actually believe I was doing this; crying on the shoulder of someone I was cowering away from less than 10 minutes ago. 

“Don’t be. Take as long as you want. My shoulder’s always here for you.”
I giggled through the tears at the way in which his gentle humour never failed to amuse me. I’d forgotten how good Alex was to me. All the time away with Phil had made me almost lose appreciation of what I actually had, instead of letting myself chase after what I didn’t.

“I’m making your uniform all wet.” I snuffled, although I pulled away from him, wiping my bruised eyes. My injuries were beginning to sting painfully with my tears rolling onto them as I dabbed at my blotchy face ashamedly, glancing at him.

“Oh, never mind about my stupid uniform.” He chuckled. “It could do with a wash anyway. And it’s not like Mr. Harrison’s going to do a hardcore uniform check on a student who isn’t even there.”

“Alex…” I began anxiously, reminding myself of where he should be right now instead of looking after his stupid, lovelorn friend.
“Oh, I look like I really care about missing History, don’t I?”

“Yeah but… I know how angry Mr. Harrison can get.” I said unsurely.
“Yeah, that’ll be if I go now. If I miss the whole lesson, he’ll just assume I’m ill or something and leave it.”

He did have a point, but I still worried even so.

We sighed, sitting in a comfortable silence together as continued to dab at my tear-streaked face.

“Guess you went through this with Zoe, right?”

Alex nodded. “Yup. Pretty much the same. Although she wasn’t covered in head-to-toe with bruises.”

“Oh, forget about them.” I brushed them off, refraining from adding how I’d actually had worse. “They-… they’ll heal.”

Alex stared at me doubtfully, although he didn’t push it any further. I figured he probably understood what I was getting at.

“Alex?" 

"Yeah…?" 

“Have the others really… y’know, talked about me?” I finally asked with a nervous tone. It was something I’d been wanting to know for a long time, actually. I’d seen the way they’d been staring at me.

Alex looked at me, and I could detect nothing more than honest sadness in his eyes. “They’ve been worried about you, Dan. We all have.”

My heart broke at the realization of how much genuine, kind-hearted goodness these people beheld. They’d been nothing but unconditionally supportive towards me, and all I’d done is push them away. For Phil.

I was disgusted with myself.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered hoarsely, my eyes meeting his.

“Dan, it’s fine.” He shook his head. “Everyone fucks up sometimes. That doesn’t make them a bad person.”

I tried hard to ignore the double meaning I could put his words into.

“I feel awful though. I need to apologize to Zoe.” I put my face in my hands, ignoring the pain that pressed against my skin.

“Apologize to her later. She’s in Maths right now.” He nodded vaguely over to the Maths blocks, as if she was visible from all the way up here. “Wait until break time.”

“Yeah, that’s if I can face the Common Room without getting mass-murdered!” I scoffed.

I knew nothing would be as bad as it seemed, especially not with my group of friends. I’d forgotten how opposite they were to Phil and Charlie. It was as if over the course of the past couple of months, I’d seemed to have completely forgotten what the concept of a Nice Person was, and treated them as if they were some kind of royally endangered species that needed to be treasured forever, and not just the averagely expected behaviour of anyone who didn’t go around beating people up, and breaking people’s hearts for fun.

But I still had the rest of the school, outside my friendship group, to contend with. Including Phil’s group.